


Monochrome

by hope_s



Series: Heistwives Toybox [9]
Category: Ocean's 8 (2018)
Genre: Bottom!Debbie, Debbie Pov, Developing Relationship, Edging, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Handcuffs, Kink Negotiation, Light Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay, Pre-Canon, Safewords, Smut, Spanking, Tribbing, Vaginal Fingering, Winter Aesthetic, top!lou
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 10:15:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22848520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hope_s/pseuds/hope_s
Summary: Debbie is frustrated by her brother's persistent success. On a whim, she buys a pair of handcuffs and brings them home to Lou.
Relationships: Lou Miller & Debbie Ocean, Lou Miller/Debbie Ocean
Series: Heistwives Toybox [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1583962
Comments: 14
Kudos: 54





	Monochrome

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnonymousOnTumblr10and13](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=AnonymousOnTumblr10and13).



> Fulfilling the prompt for Spanking/Handcuffs/Edging and the request for Tribbing (I know you also asked for 69, but I'm planning to work that into a later fic). Thanks for the ideas, friends! I had a lot of fun with this one.

**Winter 2005**

Debbie tugged her wool coat tightly around herself and stared up at the stone façade of the Met, not really seeing it. Snowflakes danced through her field of vision, blowing this way and that, unhurried. The clouds were heavy and grey, ushering in a premature dusk over the city. Debbie slid a hand into her pocket and ran a numb fingertip along the edge of a box of cigarettes. Eyes still fixed on the museum, she scratched a hole in the plastic wrapper around the box, flicked it open, and pulled out a cigarette. In her opposite pocket, there was a lighter. It wasn’t hers, but she carried it most of the time now. There was something natural about pulling it out when Lou left hers in the wrong jacket and flicking it open to light Lou’s cigarette. It was palatable intimacy, something she could wrap her mind around. Today, Debbie put the cigarette between her own lips and lit it as quickly as she could, fingers aching to get out of the cold. The burn of the smoke was far from soothing, but the smell reminded her of Lou, and that helped her heart to slow to a reasonable pace.

She had tried for months now to come up with something _big_ , something more than a few grand, which paid for food and paid the rent but didn’t really get them anywhere. Every time she felt herself getting close to something, there was Danny with his crew and his stupid Fabergé egg smirking at her in her mind’s eye. He blocked her at every turn. _Come on, Debs, you’re supposed to be the smart one_ , he would mock. And she would turn away from his face and whatever potential lead she was exploring. Staring at the blank walls of the Met, walking herself through the familiar hallways and galleries inside, he was there – a security guard with his eyes, a person in the crowd with his perpetual five o’-clock shadow. Eventually she walked herself right out the doors and back into herself, standing in the cold and burning her icy fingertips on the end of a spent cigarette.

She dropped the butt onto the ground and crushed it with her heel, imagining it to be Danny’s stupid, shiny Fabergé egg. It was satisfying for about twenty seconds, and then she remembered that it wasn’t _his_ fault she was feeling this way, that this was her problem, not Danny’s, and certainly not Lou’s. Debbie sighed regretfully at the thought of her. Lou, who had stood by her for six years now. Lou, who was the only person Debbie really wanted to keep around, whatever that looked like. Lou, who was as kind as she was smart. Lou, at whom she had snapped and yelled whenever Danny’s successes threatened to overwhelm her. Debbie grimaced, muscles in her face complaining at the cold. She was sorry for it, if it made any difference, and Lou _knew_ that, Debbie was sure, even if she was shit at saying the words. She was shit at saying anything that really mattered.

 _Fuck_.

The snow was falling more heavily, and the sky was darkening. The Met was still an unbreakable code. Something told her it was a place to start, but it hadn’t yielded anything, yet, and she had walked herself through it (both literally and figuratively) at least a dozen times now. She would try something new tomorrow, set her sights on something else for a while. Debbie wove through passersby and kept her eyes staring forward, maintaining her elegance, her inaccessibility. She paused at an intersection and glanced sideways at a shop window. She did a double take. There were handcuffs in the window – shiny and lined in leather, but that wasn’t what drew her eye. The promotional photo next to them showed a woman’s naked back with her cuffed wrists resting against her lower back. A pair of hands rested on the woman’s hips. A pair of distinctly feminine hands. Interesting. Debbie hesitated for a moment and then slipped into the shop. A bell tinkled above the door. 

“Hey…uh…we’re closing soon, just so you know.” A young man spoke from behind the cash register, looking up from a pile of condoms he was sorting. His eyes traced over Debbie’s Louboutin boots and her wool coat. He smiled at her in a confused sort of way.

“Won’t be long,” Debbie said, hands still buried deep in her pockets. “How much are those handcuffs?” She tilted her head towards the display in the window. 

“They’re on sale for forty, marked down from seventy,” he rattled off, returning his gaze to the packages in front of him.

“I’ll take them,” Debbie said at once. The man pointed towards a display of boxes on an end cap near the front of the store. Debbie felt her lips twitch into a smile. She slipped a bottle of lube into her pocket as the man continued to organize condoms without looking up and then made her way nonchalantly to the handcuffs. Her mind felt clear for the first time in weeks, forced to stop whirring, because Debbie didn’t do anything on a whim, and _this_ was a whim. It was peaceful to know she hadn’t planned this. Sure, it was low stakes and mostly legal, she thought as she handed over a recently stolen credit card to pay for the handcuffs, but it was also spontaneous. Debbie struggled with spontaneity, so this could only build character. The young man smiled at her and handed over a receipt.

“Thanks.”

The bell tinkled over the door as she left, back out into the rush of people and the snow. Debbie decided to take the subway home to get out of the cold. It was easy enough to scam her way onto the train, and in less than an hour, she was climbing the five flights up to their studio apartment in the Bronx. Her breaths came out in puffs of mist even inside the stairwell, but she could almost feel Lou’s warmth through the walls, thawing her frozen fingers and toes. She could hear the televisions and radios in some of the apartments, and behind one door, someone was practicing the violin.

She paused for a moment and focused on it, recognizing Schubert. Whoever was playing was skilled, and Debbie leaned against the wall next to the stranger’s door to catch her breath, remembering a concert many years ago. She had sat next to Danny in a blue dress, and her legs hadn’t been long enough to touch the floor. He had complained, and it still bothered her, even though she knew it had all been an act, that he loved the music almost as much as she did. Still, she understood it in a way he never would, just like everything else. But then, why was she living in this too-small, too-cold apartment while he was off celebrating his second multi-million-dollar heist in five years?

Debbie kept walking, heels loud against the wooden steps. She reached the door of their apartment and let herself in with the silver key in her pocket. Lou was sitting at the kitchen table, eyes darting across a newspaper, but she looked up as Debbie walked in and smiled at her. She radiated warmth, and Debbie felt her entire body unclench a little from the cold and the memories.

“It’s snowing,” she told Lou, shaking her head a little to rid her hair of snowflakes.

“Any luck at the Met?” Lou asked.

Debbie sighed. “Nothing.” She turned to hang up her coat on a hook by the door. “But I got you something, baby.” She turned back to the kitchen with the cigarettes and the handcuffs in her hand. She presented the cigarettes first, sliding them across the table.

“Thanks,” Lou said. “Uh…you know these are open, right? You didn’t steal them out of someone’s pocket this time, did you?”

“No, I learned my lesson the last time,” Debbie assured her, crossing her legs and leaning back in her chair. Her foot brushed Lou’s leg under the table. “I had one.”

“You don’t smoke.”

“Apparently, I do, today.”

Lou narrowed her eyes in confusion for a moment but obviously decided not to pursue the topic. She slid the cigarette box to the side and picked up the other. Debbie’s heart beat rapidly in her chest. She hadn’t really considered what Lou might think of the handcuffs, but then again, this whole thing was about spontaneity. She swallowed hard and waited. Lou’s eyes widened ever-so-slightly as she looked at the picture on the box and then turned it over to read the description on the back. Finally, she looked back up at Debbie, brow furrowed in confusion.

“Debs, what…?”

“Just thought it would be something fun to try,” Debbie said lightly.

Lou smirked. “Nice try. What’s bothering you?”

Debbie groaned dramatically and let her head fall back, hair cascading over the back of the chair as she gazed at the ceiling. “Danny.”

“What does it matter? You _know_ you’re better than him, and _I_ know you’re better than him, so who cares?”

“Me. I care. He’s a millionaire, Lou.”

“And you don’t think you’ll get there?”

Debbie chewed her lip and tilted her head back down to gaze at a spot over Lou’s left shoulder. “Sometimes I wonder.” Lou smiled sympathetically. They sat in silence for several moments. Debbie felt lighter, now that she had said the words out loud, but there was still something twisting in her gut that drew her attention. Debbie desperately wanted her focus to move elsewhere.

“So,” Lou said finally, “handcuffs?”

Debbie shrugged, eyes settling on her at last. “I…need a distraction.”

“Go on.”

Debbie took a deep breath and let it out through her nose in a huff. “I can’t stop competing, and I don’t want to, but I need to have one night where…” She trailed off, slightly alarmed with where that sentence was heading.

“Where…?” Lou prompted.

Debbie squeezed her eyes shut. “Where I can’t concentrate on anything but myself. And you.” She swallowed hard and opened her eyes. “And _us_ , baby.”

Lou stared at her for a second, and Debbie forced herself not to look away. Lou’s eyes were almost blindingly bright sometimes. Then Lou nodded. “Okay,” she said. “What do you want?”

Debbie groaned and crossed her arms protectively over her chest. “I don’t, —” she began, slightly frantic.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Lou got up from her chair in a squeak of wood on cheap linoleum and knelt next to Debbie, one hand coming to rest on Debbie’s elbow, the other on her thigh. “Let’s start with safewords,” Lou suggested.

Debbie felt like she was a long way away, having this conversation from a distance, even though Lou was right there, fingers stroking soothing patterns through the fabric of her clothes. “Safewords?”

“Yeah.” Lou smiled. “Like, green is go, yellow is pause, red is stop.”

“Seems awfully garish,” Debbie scoffed.

“Debbie, we’re not doing this without safewords,” Lou said firmly.

Debbie sighed self-pityingly and looked down at herself, at Lou’s hands. “Fine. Black is go, grey is pause, white is stop.” Under the self-protection of her cynical tone, she was grateful, and she hoped to God that Lou knew that.

“Good,” Lou said, squeezing her thigh gently. “You want more than just the handcuffs?”

Debbie nodded slowly. She wasn’t sure _what_ , but there had to be something.

“I have a few suggestions,” Lou said in a low voice. Debbie appreciated the intimate, suggestive tone. She smiled briefly, and nodded. “Just say black, grey, or white, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Dildos and the strap?”

Debbie scoffed. “Obviously black.”

“Nothing’s obvious, okay?” Lou chided.

Debbie rolled her eyes and clucked her tongue. “Fine.” 

“Edging?” Lou asked. 

“Black.”

“Clamps?”

Debbie hesitated, then shook her head. Sharp sensations only made her more focused, and that was the opposite of what she needed right now. “White.”

Lou leaned her cheek against Debbie’s bicep. “Good girl.”

“Maybe some other time?”

Lou smirked. “Okay. Ropes?”

Debbie shrugged. “Grey, I guess.”

“Oral?”

“Jesus, _black_. Definitely, black,” Debbie said, almost laughing. She doubted very much that there would ever come a day when she didn’t want Lou’s mouth on her. 

Lou chuckled softly. “Spanking?”

Debbie’s brain, despite the topic of conversation and her own considerable will, had still been insisting on populating the background of her mind’s eye with images of Danny’s Fabergé egg and the Metropolitan Museum of Art. But as Lou spoke, everything froze and shattered. The kitchen was, suddenly, shockingly bright, as if Debbie had been viewing it from behind a pair of dark glasses. She uncrossed her arms, letting her left hand find Lou’s in her lap.

“Debs?” Lou’s voice was cautious, as though she thought she might have gone too far. Debbie felt her eyes travel in slow motion across the cabinets opposite her, to the table, and finally, to Lou, whose eyes were wide and confused.

“That’s what I want,” Debbie said. Her voice felt strange, as though something had cleared from her throat and she was using it properly for the first time in days.

“What?”

“Sp—” She broke off. She couldn’t say it, and a twinge of guilt pulled at her chest.

Lou turned her hand over and interlaced her fingers with Debbie’s. “Spanking?”

“ _Black_ ,” Debbie said with certainty. “That’s what I want to try. I don’t know…”

“You don’t have to know. That’s what the safewords are for.”

Debbie nodded and squeezed Lou’s hand.

“So,” Lou said, straightening up and stepping behind Debbie’s chair. She bent down and wrapped her arms around Debbie’s shoulders, chin resting in the crook of her neck.

“So.”

“Handcuffs, edging, spanking, oral,” Lou rattled off the ideas to which Debbie had responded positively.

“Yes.” Debbie said. “And the strap, of course,” she added, feeling herself go red, “but that’s at your discretion.”

Lou kissed her neck, and Debbie shivered. Her hands dropped to Debbie’s chest, cupping her breasts through her shirt before fumbling with her buttons. Debbie tried not to squirm even as the cool air of the apartment found her bare skin. Lou pushed the fabric out of the way and settled her hands on Debbie’s shoulders as she stood up straight once more. Her fingers twisted a few strands of Debbie’s hair.

“I want you on the bed, honey,” Lou murmured, heavy and dark.

Debbie felt the timbre of Lou’s voice resonate in her bones. She nodded and stood up, turning to face her. Lou smiled at her, pulled her close, and kissed her hard. Her hands slipped down to Debbie’s hips and then further, sliding into her back pockets and squeezing her ass. She melted in Lou’s arms. Lou – well, Lou and the prospect of what she was about to do to her – forced the distraction that was threatening to creep back into her brain to go fuzzy. Debbie sighed against Lou and drank her in.

**

Debbie was glad that the bedroom side of the tiny studio apartment had the largest radiator and that Lou had added a partition that kept most of the heat inside. The hardwood floor was cold, but with the soles of her feet pressed firmly onto the bedspread, Debbie felt warm enough. Lou watched her, eyes raking over Debbie’s naked body, making her feel seen. It sent a thrill down Debbie’s spine.

“Keep your legs spread,” Lou instructed. “Let me see you.”

Debbie obeyed, willing herself to stay still as Lou undressed. Each item of clothing, each necklace, was removed slowly and meticulously, and Debbie waited, entranced. Every so often, her gaze fell on the handcuffs at the edge of the bed, and the anticipation sent blood rushing between her legs. Her fingers tingled. At last, Lou was naked, and Debbie took a deep breath. Seeing her like this was…Debbie didn’t have words for it, couldn’t capture the way the light played across Lou’s ribs, the way just looking at her breasts made Debbie feel the weight of them in her hands, the way Lou always seemed so angular and sharp, but like this, she softened a little. Debbie’s lips parted.

“Come here,” Lou said as she sat down on the edge of the bed and patted her lap. She sat far enough back to give Debbie space to lie down across her legs. Her thighs pressed up against Debbie’s pelvis, firm and solid, it grounded her. “Hands above your head and close your eyes.”

Debbie let her eyelids fall heavy over her eyes, and suddenly, the feel of Lou sharpened. She felt her shift to reach for the handcuffs and lean over her upper body, heard the sharp click of the clasp and then smooth leather and cold metal against her skin.

“Give me a color, honey.”

Debbie’s brain took an extra second to catch up to the request, but as soon as it did, she said, “Black.”

“Good girl.” The handcuffs clicked, and Lou’s fingers trailed down Debbie’s arms to her shoulders and then down her spine. Debbie twitched as soon as Lou’s palms settled on her ass. She felt wetness gather between her legs, and knew Lou could see it, could probably feel it against her thigh. “Are you ready?” Lou asked.

“Yes, baby.”

“So pretty, like this.” Lou’s voice was rough, but her fingers were smooth as they drew spirals on Debbie’s skin. “How many do you want?”

“I—” Debbie felt her heart race, suddenly unsure. She had never tried this before, and she needed Lou to take control. She took a deep breath and let it out in a shaky sigh. Her muscles tensed.

“It’s okay, Debs,” Lou soothed, one hand stroking up her back to massage the nape of her neck. “You don’t need to decide. How about we start with five?”

Debbie relaxed, and she knew Lou could feel it. “Yeah,” she agreed. “Will you keep track?” She had to distance herself from numbers. Numbers kept her in her head, kept her brain whirring out of control, and that was what she was trying to avoid.

“Of course. Ready?”

“Ready.”

There was a pause. Lou’s palms pressed against her, almost too warm, and then some of the warmth vanished. There was a whoosh of air, a smack. The burn took a moment to register – nonexistent at first before spreading outwards, then dissipating as quickly as it had come. Debbie let out a breath of air she hadn’t realized she had been holding. There was another whoosh, another smack, and the upper part of her ass burned, more of an ache this time. The third smack caught her by surprise, falling on the sensitive crease of her thigh. She jerked and let out a gasping whine of surprise that turned to a cry as the fourth smack quickly mirrored the third on the other side of her body. The fifth stroke was right in the middle, and this one was harder. Pain rippled through her skin and turned quickly to fire tinged with arousal. She felt like she was floating.

“That’s five,” Lou murmured, stroking her again. “Do you w--?”

“More,” Debbie whispered. “I want more.”

Lou kept an erratic rhythm, sometimes pausing for many seconds between strokes, sometimes delivering two in a row, which made Debbie’s entire body quiver. The pain lingered now, not dissipating as it had at first. The next stroke landed low on her ass, and Debbie groaned, feeling tears spring in her eyes. But still, she breathed into it, let it fill her, because anything was better than the desperate, visceral longing to be better than Danny, to beat him. _Fuck_ , she was thinking about it again, and suddenly her vulnerability wasn’t a distraction anymore. She cried out at Lou’s next stroke, and it turned to a sob.

“G-grey,” she gasped. “Grey, Lou.” She attempted to turn over to see Lou’s face, but her bound hands made things awkward.

“It’s okay, Debs, here, can I help you?” Lou asked quietly, resting a gentle hand on the middle of Debbie’s back.

“Please.”

Lou helped her sit back on her knees and bring her bound hands in front of her body. Lou’s hands went immediately to Debbie’s wrists, but Debbie shook her head. 

“No, keep them. I like it.” It was true. Having her wrists bound meant that her arms couldn’t get in her way; it contained her body, and thus, her thoughts. Debbie took a deep breath and leaned against Lou, who pulled her into her lap.

“You did so well, honey,” Lou whispered against her hair. “So good for me.” Lou’s scent was close around her, protective and warm. Debbie buried her face in Lou’s neck and took a deep breath.

“I liked it,” she murmured.

Lou chuckled. “I know. You were dripping onto my thigh.”

“Mm hmm.” Debbie felt herself blush as she hummed against Lou’s skin. She squirmed a little, trying to relieve the ache of arousal between her thighs. Lou, of course, noticed.

“You want something.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.”

“You want me to fuck you.”

“ _Yes_.”

**

Debbie wasn’t sure how she ended up lying in the middle of the bed with her cuffed wrists above her head and Lou sliding her fingers down her body. She spread her legs as wide as she could, coaxing Lou onward and stared up into the ice blue eyes that gave nothing away. Only Lou could do this, offer distraction, anticipation, promise all at once. Lou rubbed over her, massaging her cunt and spreading her wetness. Debbie groaned. Eyes fixed on Debbie’s, Lou raised her eyebrows.

“Black,” Debbie said. “Keep going.” Lou slid one long finger inside her, and Debbie rocked into her palm as best she could. Lou shook her head and clicked her tongue.

“Stay still,” she ordered. The authority of her tone sent a thrill down Debbie’s spine. She swooned and felt herself pulse once around Lou’s finger.

It didn’t take long for Lou to work her to the edge – slow strokes that pressed against her inner walls in the most delicious way. She cried out on every thrust, willing Lou to continue, as much as she didn’t want this to end. Lou bent her head and licked her way up Debbie’s neck to her ear.

“Tell me when you’re close,” she whispered.

“I am, I am,” Debbie replied at once, slightly frantic.

Lou’s finger vanished, and Debbie felt her inner walls twitch around nothing. She took a deep, steadying breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them, Lou was reclining on the bed next to her.

“Are you ready for more?” Lou asked.

Debbie smiled knowingly as she remembered that edging had also been on the short list. “Yes, baby,” she said. “I’ll te—” Lou slid two fingers into her this time, firm and deep. “—tell you when I’m close,” Debbie finished through a sigh.

Lou bent her head to Debbie’s chest, worked her tongue at an agonizingly slow place around her nipple. A tingling cord of sensation grew between her nipple and her clit. Debbie’s hips bucked, and Lou chuckled, one hand coming to rest on Debbie’s waist to hold her still. She licked across to Debbie’s other breast, and Debbie squirmed, wanting desperately to rock her hips and find more friction against Lou’s palm as her fingers moved inside her. Lou looked up at her through long, mascara-covered lashes, and Debbie bit her lip, willing herself to stay in control.

“G-grey,” she gasped, as a particularly hard thrust and the graze of Lou’s teeth on her nipple brought her perilously close to her release. Lou’s hands and mouth vanished, leaving Debbie feeling empty, but then her lips were on hers, kissing her softly.

“So good for me,” Lou murmured against Debbie’s mouth.

She brought the fingers that had been inside Debbie up to their joined lips, and Debbie licked them, Lou’s tongue meeting hers. Lou added a third finger and tapped Debbie’s lower lip, and Debbie took the hint, sucking her into her mouth, moistening her fingers as the rest of her body relaxed.

“Ready for more?” Lou asked without removing her fingers from Debbie’s mouth.

Debbie nodded and kissed each of Lou’s fingertips as she withdrew. She barely had time to take a breath before all three fingers were inside her. She cried out and ground her hips upwards. Her orgasm was already building in her core, but she took several deep breaths, willing herself to keep it at bay. Lou’s fingers slid into her easily, meeting hardly any resistance. She pulled out almost all the way on every stroke, letting Debbie feel every inch of her each time and watching her closely. Debbie made to move her hands to pull Lou down towards her, but the cuffs, which she had momentarily forgotten about, stopped her. Lou raised her eyebrows.

“Come here,” Debbie whispered, “please.”

Lou smiled and bent to nuzzle her nose against the sensitive skin under Debbie’s ear. “Like this?” she asked.

“Mm hmm.” Lou’s fingers plunged deep once more, a little more roughly this time, and Debbie knew she had to be careful, her entire body ready to betray her in its search for release.

“You’re so sexy like this,” Lou whispered.

Debbie felt the words against her skin, moaned as Lou drew her fingers out, teased her for a second, and then pushed back inside. Debbie felt herself dripping.

“You’re so wet. I can’t wait to taste you.”

Debbie moaned.

“I want you to come in my mouth.”

At those words, Debbie felt her cunt twitch a warning under Lou’s palm. “ _Fuck_ ,” she gasped, squeezing her eyes shut in concentration. “Grey, _grey._ I’m close!”

Lou withdrew with a very smug smile playing around her lips. Debbie gazed up at her, waiting for her breathing to return to normal. Lou was beautiful, ethereal sometimes, but right now she was solid and present and _real_ – more real, in fact, than all of Debbie’s anxieties. She flexed her fingers against the handcuffs, wishing she could trace the line of her cheek bone, the shell of her ear.

“I want to watch you come,” Debbie said, voice raspy and heavy even to her own ears.

Lou stroked her inner thigh. “One more time and then we’ll see,” Lou told her.

Debbie arched her back, knowing how much Lou enjoyed this, knowing what it did to her. “You want me,” she murmured.

“Always.”

**

Taking four of Lou’s fingers was always a delicious stretch, and today was no different. The hint of pain was welcome, taking the edge off her impending orgasm, which she was still desperately trying to control for Lou. Her thighs were shaking now on either side of Lou’s hips. She couldn’t remember lifting her legs into the air, but it did give Lou a deeper angle. She moved slowly, fingers tucked tightly against one another as she thrust into Debbie. The pressure itself was almost enough to push Debbie over the edge, but Lou was careful to avoid brushing her clit, which was hard and straining. Debbie catalogued her sensations – the hard edge of metal and leather around her wrists, the strain in her shoulders and back from keeping her arms above her head, the memory of Lou’s lips under her ear from a few minutes ago, Lou’s fingers rolling her right nipple, the tautening of her abdominal muscles as she tried to keep still, the stretch in her hips as she opened herself wider for Lou, the wetness of her arousal, and the pressure deep inside her where Lou’s fingertips were sending electric shocks throughout her body. She barely had the wherewithal to open her mouth to speak.

“‘m close, baby.”

Lou pressed into her once more and then withdrew, slowly. Debbie sighed, pulse beating between her legs. She expected Lou to kiss her or to say something dirty that would make her entire body quake, but she didn’t. She looked down at Debbie with a curious expression on her face, then she moved, and before Debbie knew it, she was on top of her, legs straddling Debbie’s hips. Debbie groaned, head falling back as she felt the roughness of Lou’s pubic hair against her clit and then what was unmistakable Lou’s own wetness grinding down on her. Lou panted above her.

“Open your eyes, honey,” Lou murmured, breathless. Debbie did so, not realizing that she had closed them in ecstasy. “Didn’t you say you wanted to see me come?”

Debbie nodded, tilting her head upwards to bring her lips to Lou’s collarbone, the closest part of her that she could reach. Lou rocked against her, keeping Debbie’s own arousal on edge and sending tingling warmth through her blood each time she grazed her clit. Debbie felt herself getting wetter, opening wider even in the absence of Lou’s fingers. Lou’s movements became erratic, her hips canting into Debbie’s with an almost bruising force. She whimpered, and Debbie looked up at her, registering the crease of her brow, the parting of her lips. Lou pressed against her once more and then jerked and twitched, a flush spreading from her cheeks and down her neck.

“So beautiful,” Debbie muttered. Lou’s eyes fluttered open, hazy in the wake of her release, but still soft and twinkling.

“Your turn, now,” she whispered, dipping her lips to Debbie’s. She kissed down her neck, over her chest, pausing to run her tongue around each nipple. Debbie relaxed, knew she didn’t have to hold herself so tightly now. Lou’s tongue slid lower, into the divot of her hip, making Debbie squirm. Lou’s groan of pleasure, which vibrated against Debbie’s arousal, was inaudible under the cry that fell from Debbie’s lips. Lou’s fingers were back inside her, thrusting with purpose as she licked up and down.

“Come on, baby,” Debbie moaned, needing a final push. Lou smiled without raising her head, and then she moved, lips wrapping around Debbie’s clit and sucking as her tongue flicked rapidly. Debbie felt a tug towards release, was almost tempted to hold it back and had to remind herself that she could come now, that Lou _wanted_ her to come. She gasped and whimpered, and then all at once, she was falling with stars popping in front of her open eyes.

**

The handcuffs were gone now, and Debbie was lying spent in Lou’s arms. The snow was still piling on the windowsill and dancing in the light of the streetlamps outside. Debbie felt warm, content as she hadn’t felt in months. She sighed and nuzzled into Lou’s chest.

“Tammy called earlier, before you got home,” Lou said quietly.

“Yeah?”

“She has a job for us, a good one. Martha’s Vineyard this summer.”

Happiness bloomed in Debbie’s stomach. A job. A job of her own again. With Lou, with Lou and Tammy. Something more than a distraction. She smiled. Lou stroked her hair.

“Are you in?”

Debbie nodded against Lou’s chest. “Yeah.”

She knew it wouldn’t solve everything, wouldn’t prevent her from falling into these pits of stagnant jealousy. Danny was still out there, achieving and so damn _humble_ about it. But Debbie was still here, biding her time perhaps. And for now, with Lou wrapped around her and a pleasant ache between her thighs, it was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> This got really soft, and tbh I didn't expect that, based on the prompts, but here we are! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I haven't seen Ocean's 12, which is referenced here, but it...sounds not great?! Idk. I liked 11 and 13, but a Fabergé egg? really? And Julia Roberts pretending to be...Julia Roberts? Come on. 
> 
> *ALSO - I may need to start posting every-other week instead of every week. I'm in grad school and I have some family stuff going on, so even though I'm still writing every day, my productivity is a little lower than usual, and I like to make sure everything is edited and proofread before it's posted. If there's a longer delay between chapters, feel free to check in on here or on Tumblr (I can answer anonymous asks from non-Tumblr users, too!), and I can probably let you know an ETA on the next fic. :) <3* 
> 
> **
> 
> Many thanks to my wife go_get_your_top_hat for always beta-ing <3 :)
> 
> If you want to request a fic for this toybox series, please let me know in a comment on here or find me on tumblr at estel-of-irysi.
> 
> Kudos and comments make my day! Thank you for reading.


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